


Dungeons and Death

by cozy_tea



Category: Tales of - Fandom, Tales of Vesperia, tov - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe where Alexei isn't dead cuz y'know, Blood, Blood and Injury, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, hopefully, i hope to make a ptsd alexei fic soon, let's have fun with it, some mention of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozy_tea/pseuds/cozy_tea
Summary: The dark dungeon was something he wasn’t unfamiliar with but usually, he was on the other side of it. He was the one who walked down, who stood opposite the bars and held himself high. He was the one who looked down on those cretins who broke the law. He was supposed to be the one who upheld it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Dungeons and Death

It had been well meaning.

Everything, everything he had done had been well meaning.

… That didn’t mean it _came out that way_ .

Alexei Dinoia, Commandant of the Empire, sat with his back against the wall, tied up, bloodied lip and nose. Red eyes stare at the floor dissociated as the soft clanking of steps came down.

The dark dungeon was something he wasn’t unfamiliar with but usually, he was on the other side of it. He was the one who walked down, who stood opposite of the bars and held himself high. He was the one who _looked down_ on those creatures who broke the law.

Schwann Oltorain stood in front of him.

(Blood coated his hands as Alexei worked and stitched and healed and designed. Tapping in codes to a glowing jewel on the chest of a soldier. He had to remain calm despite the shaking of pale stained flesh. The smell had been horrible.)

He wore not his knights uniform, but two knights were at his side. He recognizes them. Boccos and Adecor. Now if only Leblanc were with them, then the whole _clown show_ would be complete.

Alexei could barely lift his head. His wounds were severe, his body heavy. Someone had suggested they _gag_ him, for safety. 

Don’t want the _demon_ talking, after all.

Schwann stood with his hair pulled back, old eyes and expression strained. They remember what happened. Yuri Lowell had begun to rush forward in anger. Alexei had seen it , but something _in him_ couldn’t stop laughing. His body giving into the hysteria he’d been holding back for _days_. ( weeks, months, _years_ … ) Building and building in his chest for the man to carry.

Schwann had saved him that day, from beneath that barrier crystal.

A panicked, angered look in his face, snarl on his breath.

Right … that hadn’t been Schwann.

“What gives _you_ the right to get out of this before me?!”

_That had been Damuron_.

Or, the closest he’d seen to Damuron in _years_. Pieces of it always slipped out here and there. But, eventually the sword had grown unable to keep its shape and snapped back.

Alexei was dragged back by guards. Tied down and wrapped up so he wouldn’t die on the trip back. The entire ragtag group with the princess looking just as worn down despite the _single man_ they had faced. The young one calling out for Yuri Lowell.

Damuron had just stared after him quietly.

This was Damuron in front of him now. In a long coat, hair pulled back, expression uncomfortable, aged.

“Alexei.” 

It sounded just as strained as Alexei knew it would be.

He did not look up. Ghost of an expression upon his face. He hadn’t been eating, hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t _anything_ since his defeat atop of Zaude.

“ _Alexei_.”

No movement.

Damuron pulled back his fist and slammed it against the bars, clattering them harshly as Boccos seemed to jolt in discomfort, Adecor giving a sideways glance. Alexei finally looked up. 

Oh right … That wasn’t Damuron, was it?

“Alexei, you will _talk to me_.”

That was Raven. A fool of a man that took pieces of each part and crammed them together. That was the man who had saved him. Who had placed hands upon Alexei’s chest and started casting healing artes despite his groups stunned silence and yells to _stop_.

Raven had saved him, in his snarl that Alexei wouldn’t get to just _choose_ his death just like that. Wouldn’t get to be so _at peace_ with himself.

His mouth is dry as it finally moves to respond. Bags beneath his eyes, hair a mess, uniform ruined, body malnourished.

“Why do you keep returning to me?” It’s rasped from his throat. He doesn’t sound _well_. (He should be dead by now.) “ _Why keep me alive?_ ”

“How dare you speak to the Great Captain Schwann in such a-!” Adecor began. 

Raven interceded. “Schwann’s dead … This man killed him. Burried him flat if I remember right.” It was just a reminder for Adecor. Alexei’s head fell again. “Fittin’ you were tryin’ ta go the same way.”

Fitting? If it fit so well, why was he still here wasting away?

“That ain’t why I came tah talk to you today. I need information. And _you’ve_ got the most I know of.”

Ah.

“The Adephagos.” Alexei murmurs beneath his breath.

“ _That’s right_ , that _thing_ you released on th’ world. I need everythin’ you know about it and how to stop it.”

What he knew about it? _There was so little_. What would he say? It was an ancient story. One that was whispered about in Krityan stories. A monster build to destroy the world, a thing to wipe out _everything_ so humanity would rebuild anew.

He thought it a weapon. A thing he could _use_ to create a perfect society.

Instead, it was a beast that would eat and ruin everything indescriminately. Could not be tamed. Was not something he could protect anyone from. (He couldn’t even protect the world from himself, how was he to do anything for that _thing_.)

The silence is deafening in the cell. Raven waiting for Alexei’s answer, Alexei’s head lowered, half lidded gaze watching the ground.

Another slam of a fist against the bars.

He was being treated less than a dog. More like a fly on the wall.

“Alexei don’t just _shut me out_. You know what to do. _Y’always_ do- .”

“And look where that has gotten me.” Alexei did not raise his head the second time. Did not even flinch. “Did you know the muscles and tendons your friend severed will keep me from ever holding a sword again, let alone a quill. My aspirations all were farces. My _friends_ were all dead before you _existed_.” 

With no chance of exercise, no chance of healing in this cell, hands tied firmly back, shackles to his ankles. He was more likely to _die_ in the next few weeks than to _know anything_ anymore.

“At least I _let you choose_. What you have made me now is a _disgrace_ to everything I once stood for.”

Raven’s hair stood up on his arms. Goosebumps on his neck. He could hear specific language being used. Knew how Alexei was talking, and …

He hated it.

Was this the person he feared for years? The person who _held his life_ in his hands? That he had been subservient to, _followed_ and believed in. 

“Oh _shut up_ , shut your fuckin’ face, ungrateful bastard! _Let me choose_? All _your friends_ were dead? You didn’t give me fuckin’ _anything!_ You did what _you_ needed to!”

(Soft words, careful, gentle as they had been. Telling Damuron about the deaths, the brigade, so many people _dead_. That he had survived thanks to a blastia in his chest Alexei had helped implant and work on.)

“ _My friends_ were all dead! I should’ve been _with them_ and you _dragged_ my ass out and gave me a suicide bomb.”

Snarled out. 

“ _Friends don’t give friends suicide as an option_.”

Alexei flinches. Just barely, but it’s there. Raven settled. Forced himself to breath. Relax his shoulders. Alexei didn’t flinch. That said something at the least. He’d been crying before. Had wanted to die. Claimed he had been a fool. It wasn’t _the Alexei_ he’d gotten to ‘know’ in his years.

“Now, _talk to me_. What _is_ that thing and how do we take care of it?”

Alexei stared quietly at the floor. His eyes near half glazed…

“ _Alexei_.”

“…The Tarqaron.” 

“What?”

“…The Tarqaron is a city connected with the stories of the adephagos…it’s talked about in some Krityan books from the ancient times…Khroma…might have more information.”

He sounds so tired.

_Given up_.

“Tarqaron.” Raven repeats it slowly. Staring at the man in front of him. The slumped shoulders, boney body. He looks _awful_. Any indignation in his voice, sharp and tired as it had been, given up in those last few words.

He remembers one other time he was like this.

Just one…

Tearing through the rubble, eyes beginning to well with tears, soot on his face, clothes torn and ripped and singed from an explosion. Utter despair in his face. Terror. The feeling of everything in his gut dropping from his fingers.

His voice just then … sounded a lot like back then, as Alexei murmured they were _right there_ …

“I’ll be back.” Raven affirms. “Don’t. _Die_. Till I see you again, got it?”

Alexei doesn’t respond.

Raven can’t look at him anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> lkSJDF JUST WANTED TO WRITE A. Bit with Alexei. God. Hi.
> 
> Let's talk about the asshole.


End file.
